what it is about
it is to stop
and recognize
what is passing
that is what writing is about
i could live a thousand years
but to live them
and have them pass
as highway beneath my ass
without ever looking
that would mean nothing
or i could live one day
on a hill
and touch the grass
and watch the sky
and look upon the birds
and feel the breeze
and touch my breast
and then to write of that
-that one day-
that would amount to more
than the thousand years
yes?
Brilliant!
